


The Conjuring

by sillypandalover91



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Based on the movie, F/F, Horror, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 02:30:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4504233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sillypandalover91/pseuds/sillypandalover91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like all horror stories, this one starts with a house. After moving into their new home, Tino and his family are tormented by a malevolent spirit. They reach out to Demonologists Arthur and Alfred for help. Will everything fall back to normalcy? Or will this evil prevail over our favorite boys? Human AU Sufin and USUK</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Annabelle

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I'm sillypandalover91 from ff.net. I'm moving all my stories over to this site. This story in particular isn't finished yet but I hope to add to it soon. It's further progressed on my fanfiction.net account though if you would like to see it there.

**1968**

"It does the scaring me just thinking about it," whispered Toris. The brunette held his friend's hand tightly in his as he stared at the stain on their white carpet. Licking his lips he rose his green eyes to meet his guest's blue, "You're going to think that we're crazy after hearing us telling you about it."

Feliks laced their fingers and squeezed, his own green eyes hardening as he regarded the duo across from them, "Like, you better not say we're crazy or anything. Cause we totally aren't."

"We won't." Alfred pulled out his recorder and sat in on the coffee table. Sparing a glance over to the doll, he watched it's eyes stare back blankly. At least, they looked blank. He knew that that's what it wanted them to think. That it was just a sweet porcelain doll despite the break in its milky blue glass eye and the claw like cracks on her blushing dimpled cheeks. Her white dress tattered and dirty from the years had specks of brown crust on the hem and her shoes were muddy. Tiny hands were resting softly at her sides, the fingers stained red at the tips.

A hand rubbed Alfred's back drawing his attention away from the doll. Arthur gave him a small smile, "Don't look at her, love. She's not very happy at the moment." The Brit gave the doll a side glance as he took a sip from his tea. Unlike the others in the room, he could see right through Annabelle. He could see that her face was not the terrifyingly sweet thing everyone else saw. True, she was still smiling, stained teeth bared as red lips stretched widely over them, but her eyes…It was all in the eyes. They were staring at him and Alfred with hatred.

Nodding, Alfred turned the recorder on, "Right. Now could you please tell us what happened from the start."

Feliks sighed, "Well, like, it started out small. Legs were positioned differently than how we left it, head turned, like, up instead of down."

"And then we found her in a completely different room," added Toris, "like she was moving around all by herself!"

"You didn't think that maybe someone was playing a trick on you," asked Alfred.

Feliks shook his head, "Well, we thought that but, like, we never gave the key to apartment to anyone else."

"And we never found evidence of an intrusion, either," said Toris. He felt a shiver down his spine and looked to the chair where Annabelle was sitting. She had fallen to the side and was facing him, her smile a little tighter. The man yelped and buried his face into his friend's shoulder, "Fe, it's scaring me!"

"Like, I know, Tor-Tor." Feliks patted his brown hair and looked back to Arthur and Alfred, "After that we knew it was possessed. Like, it had to be, right? So we contacted a medium."

Mumbling though the blondes shirt, Toris said, "She told us that a seven year old girl had died in our apartment. Her name was Annabelle Higgins, hence why we started to call her Annabelle."

"The medium, like, told us that she was lonely and stuff. So that was why she had started to play with my doll. All she wanted was to be friends and live with us…"

"We're nurses and we like helping people so…we gave her permission to inhabit the doll."

Arthur and Alfred sat up straighter and exchanged glances. The latter shook his head, "Wait, you did what?"

"We thought she was nice," snapped Feliks, "Like Toris said, we're nurses and we couldn't bear letting a little ghost girl be sad and lonely. So we gave her permission to get inside the doll so she could live with us."

Toris sat back up and sighed, "But then things started getting the weird."

_The two nurses stumbled out of the elevator in a fit of giggles and walked towards their apartment. Feliks tripped on a tear on the hallway's carpet and fell into Toris' chest. Reaching up, he wrapped his arms around his friend's shoulders and pressed his face against his baby blue scrubs, "Like, you're so hard, Tor-Tor but you don't look it."_

_Toris' face lit up, "Don't say it like that, Fe! People could get the wrong idea…"_

" _Psh, as if." Smirking, Feliks glanced around and stood up on his tip toes to kiss Toris on the cheek, "You did good today, Tor. I'm sure Dr. Hernandez will totes give you that raise."_

_Reaching into his pocket, the Lithuanian smiled, "I hope so, Fe. Maybe then we could move out of this dreadful place. Maybe somewhere where you could be free to wear those skirts you like so much."_

_Feliks hummed and opened their door for them. All of sudden the hairs at the back of his neck stood on end. A strange tremor ran down his back, like a cold finger nail was tracing every bone along his spine. He glanced down and saw a page from his diary. Toris picked it up before he got a chance and read it, blushing at the words._

" _Like…I hope to god, that doesn't say what I think it says…"_

" _Fe, you—you love me?"_

" _Shut up, Tor." He plucked the diary page from his friend's hand and turned it around. On the back in red childish handwriting were the words 'miss me?' He showed it to Toris but the Lithuanian was staring straight ahead with wide eyes. "Toris?"_

_Licking his lips, Toris cupped Feliks' face and forced it in the direction he was starring. Annabelle was sitting in the middle of the hallway, the moon light shining on her grinning face. Toris looped his arm through Feliks' and gently tugged him inside, taking slow steps down the hallway. He whispered to his friend as they got closer to her, "Didn't we leave her in the spare room, Fe?"_

" _Yeah." But truth be told Feliks didn't give a damn about the doll moving. He was more concerned about the fact that she had a small pile of red broken crayons by her hand. Her red stained hand. The sound of electricity short circuiting behind him, made the blonde glance over his shoulder and into his room. The chills came back tenfold at the sight. "Like, holy shit!"_

_Toris' mouth dropped, a hand reaching out to brace himself on the door frame as he looked into Feliks' room as well. The lamp was on the floor, flickering on and off, shedding light on the destruction around the room. The walls were covered with harsh red lines as if someone had taken a red crayon and ran around in a temper tantrum. Clothes were clinging onto every available surface in hopes that they wouldn't have met the floor where their brethren suffered a worse fate._

_Feliks picked up his favorite red skirt and whimpered at the horrid tattered state it found itself. But that wasn't the worse of it. Pictures of him and Toris also littered the floor. The frames were cracked from the fall but also scratched at. Toris picked up a picture of himself and saw that his face had been colored in with red crayon. Words reflected off the broken glass making him glance up. He reached out again to grab Feliks, "L-look." In the same angry lines, the same childish handwriting was the question 'miss me?'_

" _Oh, you have got to be, like totally, kidding me. Who could even get up the—" The blonde clammed up at the sound of something falling. He and Toris glanced down to see a lone red crayon roll until it stopped at their feet. Jaw clenching Feliks narrowed his eyes, "Fuck this!" He stomped out to the hallway and picked up the retched doll before storming out the apartment._

" _Fe! Fe, wait for me," cried Toris as he followed after the angry blonde. They ran down the stairs and out the back door that led to the alley where the tenants collected their garbage for the truck to pick up._

_Feliks motioned for him to open the bin, "Open it up for me."_

" _But—"_

" _Just do it, Toris. I don't want this stupid thing anywhere near our home." As soon as the Lithuanian lifted the lid, Feliks tossed Annabelle in and threw her crude note after her. The last thing he saw before Toris closed it back up here milky eyes staring back up through her messy copper hair._

_Later that night, while the duo slumbered together in Toris' room, they heard knocking at their door. Feliks' shifted out of his friends arms and buried himself under the covers hoping that whoever was outside would just leave. He jumped when the knocks became furious and insistent, narrowly missing Toris' head as he got up._

_They exchanged worried glances before pulling on their slippers and walking out into their hallway. Toris whispered, "Did you pay our landlord, Fe?"_

" _Like, totally," said Feliks with a nod. "And even if I didn't, Ivan would never be a jerk about it. He would just wait till morning like any normal person."_

_Flicking on the hallway's lights, Toris sighed and peeked through the peep hole on the door, "Fe, there's no one out there. He unlocked the door and poked his head out to look down the corridor, "Nope, not even—" Something crinkled under his foot so he took a step back, face paling. There on the floor was Feliks' diary page that he had tossed in after Annabelle in the trash bin. He stepped back inside and showed it to him._

_Bang, bang, bang! More insistent banging knocked Feliks' off his feet in fright though this time it came from the linen closet he'd been leaning against. Heart beating erratically in his chest, Feliks' steeled his nerves and reached out for the door knob._

" _Fe…Fe, don't open it," said Toris. Feliks ignored him and twisted the handle before yanking it open._

Shaking his head at the memory, Feliks glared at his now cold tea sitting in front of him next to the recorder on the coffee tables, "We're, like, beyond terrified. My BF and I can't sleep and we're not exactly rich enough to just keep replacing our crap just because that little shit doesn't like me being near, Toris."

"Or alive for that matter," said the brunette. Toris finally looked at the couple in front of him, "Can you help us?"

Alfred grinned, "Of course, dude! We're hero—oof!" He rubbed his belly and sighed, "Right, well, the first thing you need to know is that there is no such thing as Annabelle. I'm afraid to tell ya that but there never was an Annabelle."

"Quite right," said Arthur. He placed his tea cup next to Alfred's soda bottle and met Feliks' eyes, "Ghosts don't possess the power to do things like that. What we here, though, is something that's manipulative and, I'm afraid, inhuman."

"It was a big mistake acknowledging this doll, guys. It was through this doll that the inhuman spirit tricked y'all into giving it permission to infest your lives."

Toris pulled on his sweater's sleeves nervously, "Wh-what is an inhuman spirit?"

"Pretty much it's something that has never walked the earth in human form. In essence, it's demonic."

"So, like the doll was never possessed?" Feliks scooted further down the couch, tugging Toris with him.

Arthur shook his head, "No, mate. The doll was used as a conduit. A vessel, if you will. The only reason it moved around was to give the impression of possession. Demonic spirits don't possess things. They prefer people. And given what you said, Feliks, it wanted to get inside of _you_."

* * *

**~A few weeks later~**

Annabelle's face distorted on the screen as the film reel came to an end.

Arthur smiled at their assistant, "That's great, Matthew. Could you shut it down for us? Someone get the lights, please."

The lights were quickly flicked back on revealing an auditorium filled with eager students attending their seminar titled Seekers Of The Supernatural. They'd been invited by one of Arthur's old school mate, Vladimir, a fellow clairvoyant and head of the psychology department, to speak at the W. H. University. Alfred stood next to Arthur at the podium, "So we got the church to send a priest over to perform a blessing on the apartment and it's occupants. Anything that was there has since left them alone. Any questions?"

All at once, everyone raised their hands eagerly. Alfred chuckled in amusement and picked on a dark skinned girl with glasses, "Yeah, hun. What's your question?"

"Where's the doll now," she asked.

Arthur hesitated for a moment before answering, "Someplace safe."

Alfred pointed at a rather heavy set young man on the opposite end of the auditorium, "What about you, buddy?"

"What are you guys," he asked, "Like what do people call you?"

"Oh, um...well, we've been called demonologists—that's one name for us. Then there's ghost hunters, paranormal researchers," said Alfred as he counted the names on his fingers, "Um, also—"

"Cooks," offered Arthur with a small smile. Their audience chuckled along with Alfred.

"Yeah, that too. Wackos, and freaks."

Slipping his hand into his husbands, Arthur laced their fingers together, matching wedding bands reflecting as he allowed them to rest on the podium, "But we prefer to be called, Alfred and Arthur Kirkland-Jones."

* * *

Since the 1960s, Alfred and Arthur Kirkland-Jones have been known as the world's most renowned paranormal investigators. Arthur is a gifted clairvoyant while Alfred is the only non-ordained Demonologist recognized by the church. Out of the thousands of cases throughout their controversial career, there is one case so malevolent they've kept it locked away until now.

The next chapters are based on a true story.


	2. New House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Names and Ages:
> 
> Finland/Tino-31
> 
> Sweden/Berwald- 32
> 
> Denmark/Mathias-15
> 
> Norway/Lukas-13
> 
> Iceland/Emil-11
> 
> Ladonia/Patrik-6
> 
> Sealand/Peter-4

**1971- Rhode Island**

Warm sunlight counted the light gold freckles on Tino's face while the cool autumn breeze combed through his hair as Berwald drove their family to their new home. He smiled happily in his light slumber at the sound of his two children singing along with their young uncles in the back seat of their Chevy wagon. Their family pet, a Maltese by the name of Hanatomago, panted happily as she allowed the wind to blow at her face.

Tino's younger brothers had been placed under his care around the same time their first child, Patrik, had been adopted. Eight years later, after the adoption process for Peter was concluded, Berwald and Tino decided to sell their house in Sweden and move to America in hopes to better provide for their growing family. Everyone had been happy with the decision.

"Will you guys shut up," groaned Emil in annoyance as he placed a pillow over his head. He groaned again when his brothers and young nephews only sang louder.

Well, almost everyone.

The car pulled into a dirt road encased in trees on both sides and drove into a clearing where a large Victorian styled house awaited its new family. Berwald shut the car off and glanced over at his sleeping husband. He rested a hand on his knee, "We're here, wife."

"Mm," cooed Tino as he shifted in his seat in a stretch, "What have I told ya about calling me that?"

"I can't say it in front of th' kids but I can remind ya tonight when they're asleep."

Mathias made a face, "You're two are gross." Grinning, he flailed his long legs restlessly, "Come on, Bear! Time's a ticking. Let us out!" He continued to bounce in his seat until Berwald finally opened the door for him. Shooting out of the seat, he dashed around their spacious lawn, "Yahoo! Freedom!"

"Thank goodness," muttered Lukas as he hopped out as well. He stretched and smiled up at the house, "It's bigger than our last home. Do you like it Emil?"

"We're in the middle of nowhere," droned his younger brother. He glared at the house, "But yeah it's big. Does this mean I can have my own room or do I not have a choice in that either."

"You have a choice." Tino helped Patrik and Peter out before waving at their moving truck, pointing to where they should park. "Let's go check out the inside, ok?" He waited for Berwald to open the door for them, "The air smells better than I thought it would."

"That's 'cause of all th' trees," said Berwald as he fumbled with his keeps. When he managed to get it open, his family practically shoved him aside and ran into the house.

Tino giggled and pecked him on the cheek, "This is going to be wonderful, Teddy." He followed after the rowdy children and explored their new home.

The tall Nordic glanced behind him at their small dog, "Come on, Hana." Glancing between her master and the house, the Maltese refused. She tucked her tiny tail around her paws and sat firmly on the porch. Berwald frowned, "Hana, come inside. Come on." He bent down and picked her up but she squirmed out of his arms and ran back outside where she hid under the car.

"What's wrong, Ber," asked Mathias, looking over his brother in law's shoulder. "Something wrong with the pup?"

"Nh. Let's just get our stuff inside."

The movers helped speed the process along. They brought down the heavier furniture while Berwald and Mathias brought down the boxes. Inside, the boys helped Tino unpack the kitchenware and their own things to mark their claimed rooms. As his belongings started to fill his room, Emil slowly started to forget his earlier grumpiness and soon he found himself smiling more and more. _Especially_ when his siblings started to squabble about which side of the room they were going to claim.

Patrik slowly climbed down the stairs after having set out his own boxes in his shared room. The red head poked at Lukas' side, "Uncle Lukas? Have you seen my wind chime?"

Lukas opened the box he brought in and shifted a few things around. Shaking his head, he tilted his head towards the living room, "Sorry, kiddo. Why don't you go see if Emil has it?"

"Thank you!" Patrik ducked under his Papa Berwald and the heavy chair he was carrying and made a bee line for the preteen. "Hey, Uncle Emil, do you have my wind chime?"

Emil pretended to think about it and made a big show of going through a box. When he could tell that his nephew was growing impatient, he pulled out a large handmade wind chime, "Oh, you mean this?"

"Yeah! Thank you—" Just as Patrik reached out for the colorful ornament, Emil pulled it out of his reach with a grin. Patrik narrowed his eyes and chased after him, "Give it, Uncle!" He chased him as far as the dining room where Emil nearly toppled over some boxes.

Giggling, Emil gave Patrik the trinket, "Here ya go, Pat. Go ask Tino where you can hang it."

Patrik stuck his tongue out and walked into the kitchen where his other father was putting away dishes, "Mama, can I hang my wind chime?"

Tino's eyes lit up, "Of course! There's a hook outside next to the light you can hang it on. Oh! And could you do me a favor, sweetie, and go tell your brother to come inside. It's going to be dark soon."

"Ok!" Their patio chairs were already placed out so Patrik climbed on one and hung his wind chime onto the hook Tino had told him. Jumping off, he gave a pleased hum as the wind made the bells tied to colorful string sing. He glanced over to the large tree and spotted his little brother, "Peter, mama wants you to come in now!"

Peter poked his head around the thick trunk and waved, "Look what I found, Patrik!" He tucked himself further into the little nook in the tree and fiddled with the music box he found. The key was a bit difficult to turn but Peter managed to give it a few winds. On the outside, the box itself was dirty and caked with mud. Despite this, Peter was drawn to the animals painted on the sides in poses like animal performers at a circus. A small clown bobbed up and down. Its features were eroded to nothing but faint blues and reds where the eyes and lips should be, a stark contrast to its still vibrant red orange tufts of hair.

Behind it a mirror marked with a frosted swirl, spun in circles, reminding Peter of mirror he once saw used by a magician at a carnival back in Sweden. He tilted the mirror towards him as the song played its final notes. Peter let out a delighted gasp and looked over his shoulder but only saw Patrik waiting impatiently for him. Shrugging, Peter closed the lid and skipped back inside his home.

~.~

It was well past nine by the time the Nordic family managed to put away most of their things. Berwald picked up the box of pizza, "Does anyone want more before I put it away in th' fridge?"

"Nope, we're good," chirped Mathias. He picked up Peter and made his way upstairs to draw him a bath.

The patriarch called down the corridor, "Boys? What about you?"

"No," called Emil and Lukas. The younger of the two wrapped a blind fold over the elder's eyes and helped his nephew spin him around five times. He grabbed Patrik's hand, quietly tugging him out of the living room they were in while Lukas counted out loud.

Lukas continued to spin around the living room until he finished counting. Shaking the dizziness away, he grinned, "Ready or not, here I come!" He made his way into the hallway and tilted his head, "Ok, clap." Two distinct claps indicated that he needed to make a left so he reached out his hands to feel his way towards the sound.

Tino walked past them with an armful of towels when Lukas tripped over a box in the middle of the hallway. His brows furrowed in concern, "Guys, you don't know the house well enough to be playing that game yet. Why don't you—"

"Sh-sh-sh," hissed his younger brother. Lukas waved Tino away, "Second clap."

Sighing, Tino leaned over the rail and raised a brow when Patrik silently clapped so that his uncle wouldn't catch him. Smirking, his father wagged a finger at him and mouthed, " _That's cheating."_

Fortunately for him, Lukas followed the sound of Emil's clap into the linen closet. He felt his way to the door knob and opened, "Last clap." The sweet joy victory often brought filled his chest at the sound of Emil's sigh of defeat and final clap. Chuckling he ripped off his blind fold and tackled his brother in effort to tickle him.

"Hahaha," giggled Emil despite his effort not to, "ok, you win! You win!" He lost his footing and fell backwards, his elbow digging straight through one of the decaying wood panels on the wall, "Woah!"

Lukas gripped his arm and pulled him back so that he wouldn't fall through but his little brother's cries had summoned the rest of his family to the small room. He crashed face first into his brother in law's chest. Flushing in embarrassment, Lukas apologized, "I'm sorry, Berwald."

"What happened," asked the older man he gently nudged the two kids out of the room and took a look at the hole. "Already gave me something to fix I see."

"It was Lukas' fault," exclaimed Emil, "He tickled me and I tried to get away and—"

"It's fine. No use getting all worked up over nothing." Berwald broke another piece of wood to make the hole bigger, "Could ya please bring me some matches?"

Tino pushed his way into the cramped room, "What happened?"

"Emil broke something," said Lukas.

The young Nordic gasped, "No, I didn't! it was your fault, Luaks."

"Ok, ok, calm down you two." Tino handed his husband a large box of matches, "What do ya supposed is down there? A cellar?"

Berwald took the matches, "Maybe. I'm going to go check it out."

"I don't know, Bear, what if it was boarded up for a reason?" The blonde worried his lip as he watched Berwald squeeze through the opening.

Using the tiny match as a source of light, Berwald carefully made his way down the steps. At the bottom of the stairway there was a switch that he flicked on but the dim light hardly made a difference. The smell of musk tickled the back of Berwald's throat and he could see clouds of dust hovering where the tiny flame illuminated.

"Berwald, is everything ok, love?"

"Mhm." Berwald bit back a pained hiss when the flame ate away what was left of the match and struck another one. "It looks like we have a cellar. There's a lot of stuff down here." He made his way back through the hole and placed the matches on one the shelves, "We can take a better look in th' mornin'."

The boys pushed and shoved, each wanting to take a look through the hole as well. Tino frowned, "Back up, kids. It's time for bed."

"Aww," whined Patrik, "But I want to see, too."

"Me three," added Emil as he tried to duck under Berwald's large frame.

Berwald sighed, "There were spiders down there, too."

At the word spiders, Lukas and Emil stopped pushing and backed away, "Ew."

"Cool," cried Mathias excitedly, "Did you see stag beetles too?"

"You can look in the morning," stressed Tino as he picked up a sleepy Peter. "Come on, shoo. Off to bed with, ya."

Grumbling that it was too early, the boys stuffed themselves into the large bathroom to brush their teeth while Berwald and Tino helped Patrik and Peter into the pajamas. Once everyone was tucked away and kissed good bye— _yes, fine, Mathias, we'll kiss you good night too_ —the couple went to the master bedroom to prepare themselves for bed as well.

Tino tightened his robe around himself and glanced out the window at Hana. The Maltese pup had been barking for a while now, her barks were starting to get hoarse but never the less insistent. Hana looked up at her master, her eyes dark and pleading in hopes that she could communicate the danger her family was finding themselves in. Couldn't they see it? _Feel_ it?

"I think something's wrong with, Hanatomago," said Tino when Berwald finally came out of their bathroom. He pressed back against his husband and sighed, "She hasn't stopped barking."

Berwald kissed Tino's head, "She'll be ok. I put her bed in th' dog house."

"Hm…ok." Lifting the window open, Tino shouted down, "Please, hush, puppy. We'll see you in the morning, ok?" Hanatomago stopped barking and looked behind her. She gave a loud whine before running into her dog house.

"Guess, she listens to ya better than me," said Berwald as he reached over to close the window. "I'm so tired."

"Too tired to Christian the house?"

Berwald glanced up too quickly, his glasses nearly flew from his face. His husband gave him a playful smile before pouncing on him, "Thank you so much for doing this for us, Teddy Bear. I know this place took a chunk out of savings but…it's going to be great, right?"

"'f course, _wife_."

Tino squealed happily when Berwald dropped him onto the bed, giggling as his gentle giant of a husband nuzzled against his neck.

Outside, Hana watched the dark energy surround the house pool around the oak tree by the pond. It gathered around until a figure crawled down on fours. The figure moved languidly, sniffing around the roots where Peter had been sitting earlier that day before catching sight of Hana. Whimpering, the Maltese buried herself under her blanket, shivering at the feel of cold long fingers brushing along her spine through the pink blanket.


	3. It Starts

Tino woke up alone in bed. His robe, boxers, and slippers were neatly waiting for him at the foot of the bed along with a small note. He shook his head with a fond smile at how much of a romantic dork his husband could be. Ignoring the soreness in his lower back, Tino pulled on his boxers, pausing only to stare at a large purple bruise on his leg. He didn't remember hitting himself during unpacking…

He shrugged and slipped on his robe and moomin slippers, "Gosh, it's cold in here." Rubbing his arms for warmth, Tino walked to Lukas' and Mathias' room and peeked in.

Lukas poked his head out of the covers, his sleepy eyes blinking slowly to bring his brother into focus, "Tino?"

"Morning, Lu. How did you sleep?"

"Ok. 's cold though."

"Yeah? I'll see what we can do about that."

Mathias also poked his head out of his covers, his hair even wilder than usual, "Please do, bro. It's freezing."

Tino hummed, "Ok. I'm going to make eggs and pancakes. Want anything else?"

"Bacon," chimed his brothers at the same time before dozing back.

Grinning, Tino made his way down stairs only to get intercepted by his pouting baby brother, "Emil, what's wrong?"

"It's freezing for one."

"I'm going to tell Berwald to start the furnace now."

"Also there was this really funky smell in my room. Like something died in there."

"Is it still there?"

"Well, no but—"

Tino ruffled his hair, "Then problem solved. I'm making breakfast. Wake up your nephews." He chuckled and walked down the steps, taking a glance at the grandfather clock to check the time. He had to do a double take. The hands were frozen at 3:07.

"Maybe, Ber forgot to wined it," said Tino. Shrugging, he tightened his robe around himself and walked to the closet where Berwald was no doubt already cleaning out the cellar, "Teddy, ya down there?"

"Yeah," called Berwald, "If you're coming down, be careful. I took off th' panels and they're right next t' th' door.

"I can see that." Tino gently pushed the panels away with his foot before making his way down the stairs. A light bulb dangled over them aiding the natural light already streaming into the cellar from the small window panels. Violet eyes widened at the mess around him, "Woah."

"Mh, th' last owner must've not wanted this stuff."

"It's going to take some serious elbow grease to get through all this." Long fingers pressed down on the stained, dusty, ivory keys of a broken piano. Tino giggled to himself at the blocky tune he played, "Think any of this is valuable?"

"Maybe th' piano if we fix it." Berwald wiped his hands on his jeans and looked at the cob webbed junk around him, "Th' rest we can toss out."

Tino gave him a kiss on the cheek, humming in agreement before heading back up, "Alrighty then. I'm going to make some breakfast."

"'K. I'll be there as soon as I fix th' furnace."

"Ooh, yes! Please do. The kids were saying it was freezing last night." Once upstairs, Tino made a beeline to the kitchen to start on the pancakes. He could already hear the sound of Peter's pitter patter down the stairs and Patrik's complaints about it being hungry. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the small green clock he'd placed by the sink. Only, it wasn't ticking. Tino reached out for it but was held back by insistent tugging at his sleeve.

Peter grinned toothily, "Daddy, have you seen Hana? She wasn't on my bed."

"She's outside, sweetheart. Why don't you go bring her in so she can eat with us?"

"Ok!" Turning on his heel, Peter ran into Berwald. He shook his head and grinned up at his father, "Papa, here hold Mr. Cuddlesworth."

Berwald took the bear and watched his youngest run out the back door, "Be careful, Peter."

"Hey, Ber," called Tino as he handed his husband the green clock, "This stopped at 3:07 and so did the one in the hallway."

"It probably got knocked around during th' move."

The shorter blonde puffed his cheeks out and raised his leg onto Berwald's thigh, "Speaking of getting knocked around, what did you do to me last night?"

"Ouch." Cool hands gingerly touched the bruise on Tino's leg, "Did _I_ do that? I'm sorry!"

The short blonde blushed when his husband suddenly knelt down to kiss the wound, "N-no, it's fine. I just—"

"Mommy," screeched Peter.

Tino and Berwald scrambled off each other and ran outside. They found their son weeping with Hanatomago in his arms. Peter glanced up at his parents, his lower lip trembling violently, "H-H-Hana's dead!"

"Oh baby, I'm so sorry," cooed Tino, taking Peter into his arms as Berwald took Hana from their son's arms. He watched as Berwald rubbed their puppy's chest and breathed into her tiny mouth, his own lips trembling sadly. "Bear?"

Berwald stopped and breathed out a sigh of relief, "She's not dead." Taking the puppy's blanket, he gently wrapped her up and cradled her in his arms, "But we need to get her to th' vet immediately."

* * *

**Connecticut, The Kirkland-Jones residence**

The reporter had imagined the Kirkland-Jones residence a whole lot different than what it was. He had thought that perhaps there would've been a darker atmosphere with dark walls, dreary dusty drapes, maybe even an iron maiden. For sure he hadn't pictured a home seemingly out of a catalog with its white comfy couches, charming drapes and—oh my god, they have kitties! The young reporter had to physically restrain himself from going over to pet Oliver and Max.

Running a hand through his black hair, Mr. Picardy followed after Alfred as he continued to jot down notes of his surroundings in his notebook. Why he'd thought that he wasn't sure but he figured that two guys dealing in the supernatural wouldn't be so…domestic?

 _Yes_ , he thought to himself as he wrote the word down, _domestic is a good word._ Mr. Picardy offered a polite smile to Alfred when he turned around, "You have a lovely home, Mr. Jones."

"You can call me, Alfred," said the demonologist with a bright grin. He nodded to the bright flowered wall paper almost proudly, "My little girl picked that out though I think the hubby might have whispered some ideas into her ear." He led them to a room marked with strange symbols and various locks. Alfred paused, "Ah, before we enter, I need you to understand that under no circumstances are you to touch anything inside."

"Ok."

"No, seriously. Don't. Touch. Anything."

Mr. Picardy nodded, "Don't touch. Got it."

Alfred studied the reporter for a moment before letting them in. An overwhelming feeling of—Mr. Picardy didn't even know how to describe it. It felt—

"Breath, dude," murmured Alfred. He patted the reporter on the back and offered a grim smile, "I know it feels like you're drowning but it'll pass." He motioned to all the relics and haunted items in the room, "These all have dormant things living or clinging to them and they aren't exactly happy to be cooped up in here but the way I see it its safer to have them here than having them out in the world, you know?"

Exhaling through his mouth, Mr. Picardy felt the doom recede from his chest and he walked further into the room. Various trinkets caught his eye but the one he felt most drawn to was an antiquated toy monkey. It's fur was matted down with time and whatever horrors it held. The paint was pealing from its mouth which was twisted in a grimace as if it's paws being frozen in mid cymbal clash was costing it physical pain.

Alfred ducked his head so that he could watch Mr. Picardy, "I know they may not look like much but these things are all from cases. They've either haunted, cursed or been used in ritualistic practice and are really dangerous. Nothing is a toy, not even that toy monkey."

"Remarkable!" The reporter made note of it before scratching his head, "But why don't you just burn them? Isn't it scary to have these things here? You mentioned that they aren't happy…doesn't that scare you?"

"We have a priest to come bless the room once a month," said Alfred as he pushed away from the case, "The symbols carved outside the door keeps anything from getting out. And as for burning them, well, it wouldn't really do anything. You see, if you burn the object, you're really just burning the vessel. The entity attached to it doesn't burn with it. Sometimes its better to keep the genie in the bottle, know what I mean?"

Mr. Picardy flipped through his pages as he wrote everything down, nodding excitedly, "I see." He suddenly remembered why his boss had sent him, "Hey, is she here?"

"Who?"

"The doll. Annabelle."

"Ah," said Alfred with a knowing grin, "This way." Further into the room, all the way in the back and locked away in a glass case, Annabelle was sitting in a small chair. Her hands were clasped in tight fists in her lap and her smile seemed strained. Alfred muttered, "Pouting isn't going to get you out of there."

"My god…" Mr. Picardy felt his excitement quickly dwindle, "I don't remember her looking like that in the pictures."

"She's got quite a temper or rather she would if it weren't for the priest who blesses the room as I said."

Averting his eyes from the doll, Mr. Picardy wrote down a few things in his notebook, "You said she was a conduit. What does that mean?"

"A very powerful demonic has latched itself onto her."

"I see. So when you're working on these cases what's keeping for things from latching on to you?"

Alfred pulled out his rosary from his pocket and showed him the inside of his wedding band, which was imprinted with a series of symbols, "This is just some of it, but we take precautions."

"What about your partner?"

"Husband," corrected Alfred, "Arthur's my husband, man. What about him?"

"If I'm to understand correctly, father Romulus said—"

Knowing where he was going with his question, Alfred quickly interrupted, "That was different. What happened to Arthur happened during an exorcism."

"What's the difference?"

"It—" Alfred caught a slight movement from the corner of his eye and he looked around the shelves. Short curly hair peeked out from where his daughter was attempting to hide. Sighing, he picked her up, "Amelia, honey, you know better."

Amelia blinked up at her father and glanced over his shoulder to see Mr. Picardy jot down something else. She shyly bit her lip, "I'm sorry, daddy."

"Its ok but don't come in here again, ok? Oi, Robert!"

A red headed man hesitantly entered the room, his bushy red eye brows blending with his fringe, "What are ya doin' in there, Lassie? I've been lookin' all over fer ya!"

Alfred handed Amelia over to his brother in law, "Dude, I told you to stop playing hide and seek in the house. She's really good at hiding." He watched the two leave before turning back to Mr. Picardy, "Now, where were we?"

The two men continued their interview well into the afternoon. With his journal filled to the brim with material for his article, Mr. Picardy left the Kirkland-Jones residence, not entirely sure if he would want to go back. Not that Alfred had been unfriendly, rather, he was pretty sure that room would probably haunt him for the rest of his life. He waved at Alfred before getting into his car.

Alfred watched the green buggy pull out of their drive way before heading into the kitchen to make a cup of tea for Arthur. With cup of tea ready and hot in his husband's favorite mug, he made his way up stairs to his and Arthur's shared office. Arthur was in his rocking chair with their daughter bouncing on his lap as he brushed through her hair, both giggling at something that had been said.

Amelia's blue eyes lit up, "Daddy! Look what Papa made for me!" She extended her to show off her white dress proudly, "Isn't it pretty?!"

Chuckling, Arthur patter her head, "You're done."

"Yippie!" Amelia hopped off and pranced around an amused Alfred, "I'm the prettiest hero ever!"

"You sure are, poppet. Why don't you go show your uncle Robert before changing for dinner."

"Ok but I'm wearing this for dinner," chirped the energetic blonde as she ran out the door.

Alfred shook his head fondly and handed his husband his evening tea. Arthur took it gratefully and gently rocked his chair, "How did the interview go?"

"I think it went well. He was really interested in what we do and promised to publish a favorable article."

"A non- skeptic. That's a lovely change."

"Yeah…" Alfred sat on their desk and silently stared at Arthur's knee. What the reporter mentioned, about Arthur and what happened that one time, it had opened old wounds. He could almost feel what he had felt that night, the cold horror grasping to his being when Arthur had fallen during an exorcism. His husband had looked into the possessed man's eyes and had seen, well, only he and god know what he saw. Arthur never said but whatever it had been was enough to take a huge chunk from him. If only he had been closer to him that night, then Arthur would've never been anywhere near the bastard.

Gripping tightly to his corduroy pants, Alfred felt a warm hand caress his face. He instantly felt his body relax and face lean into Arthur's palm. He saw his lips move but didn't hear, "Huh?"

"I _said_ you can't keep blaming yourself for what happened. It wasn't your fault."

"But—"

"No. What happened happened, Al, and it couldn't have happened any other way." Arthur leaned back in his chair and smiled, "It's ok. I'm ok." He took a sip of his tea and grimaced, "Ugh, but this tea isn't."

Alfred couldn't help but giggle, "Forgot to put the honey. Here, I'll go get you some." He bent down to kiss Arthur on the cheek before taking the tea from him to go add some honey.

* * *

**Rhode Island, The Oxenstierna Household**

The Nordics were fast asleep. Their day had been dreary after having to hospitalize their beloved pet, Peter and Patrik having taken it the hardest. Tino and Berwald tried their best to lift their children's spirits by taking them shopping for things for school. The little ones had all pressed their faces against the window of a pet store and had nearly broken into sobs at the sight of happy and healthy puppies.

It had taken the two men an hour to get them to calm down and they did so by promising to get another pet to keep Hana company in the near future and by letting them pick out some treats and toys for Hana to play with when she was better. The vet had said she had suffered a seizure that left her paralyzed. What caused it or why was chalked up to stress from moving to a new continent. and the vet had recommended that she stay with him so that he could keep an eye on her. The car ride back had consisted of them retelling stories of all the silly things Hana used to do. For example she loved jumping into fresh laundry and roll in it. Once when Tino found her in the act she had jumped out of the basket and fled with a pair of Mathias' red boxers over her head. That particular memory had everyone laughing.

Dinner had been spent wondering what kind of sibling Hana would like. Emil immediately said that she would love having a Puffin for a brother and that if they did get one they should name it Mr. Puffin. Berwald gently told him that perhaps a more…conventional animal would be best.

After putting everyone to bed, including Tino because— _I've got to finish these designs fer tomorrow, wife_ —Berwald went back downstairs to finish his work. He'd been hired by the local furniture store to build and occasionally make deliveries both local and long distance. They were also going to allow him design some furniture as well but the owners had wanted him to provide schematics first.

The sound of a door closing, startling Berwald awake from his slumber. His vertebrae popped as he stretched, releasing the tension from his lower back. Yawning, he slipped on his glasses and checked his watch. It was a little over midnight which made him frown, "Who could possibly be awake at this time of night?"

He got up and turned off the television hear better in hopes to get a better idea of where the sound was coming from. Stepping into the hallway, Berwald saw the door leading to the kitchen open and close rapidly before opening all the way slowly. He frowned and walked towards it, cautiously opening it all the way to test the hinges. A draft brushed against his bangs and he sighed.

Tino had accidentally left the kitchen window open which had created a vacuum. The Nordic sighed and closed it when he suddenly heard more rumbling, like something was hitting against wood. He quickly realized that it was coming from upstairs so he quickly made his way up only to nearly bump into a small body.

Emil rubbed his eyes sleepily, "Berwald?"

"Emil what are ya doin' out of bed? What's that sound?"

"It's Patrik, he's in room. I think he's sleep walking again." Emil took Berwald's hand in his and allowed for the older blonde to lead him back to his room. He hugged his teddy bear close to him as he watched Berwald go to Patrik, "I remember you and Pap—Tino saying not to wake him when he's sleep walks but…I've never seen him do something like this before."

Berwald placed a gentle hand between Patrik's forehead and the wardrobe to keep him from banging it against it as he tried to seemingly walk through it. He smiled over his shoulder, "No, you were right to come get me. Turning back to Patrik, Berwald whispered softly, "Come on son, let's go back ta bed, yeah?" He picked him up and allowed the boy to rest his head under his chin, walking over to Emil to pat his head affectionately, "Go back to sleep, Emil. Ya have school in th' mornin'."

Emil nodded and curled back into his bed after Berwald turned off his lights. The older man walked past Lukas and Mathias' room to put his son back to bed, pausing only to hear Lukas grumpily scold Mathias for one thing or another.

Inside the shared bed room, Mathias pulled his covers over his head to block out his younger brother's voice, "I didn't fart, man. Don't blame that on me."

"Yeah well who else could it be," mumbled Lukas as he covered his nose with his blanket. He tucked his feet inside as well if only for the sake of his brother not bothering him, "And don't touch my feet!"

**~.~**

Later that morning Berwald told Tino what had happened that night as brushed his teeth and his spouse showered. He waited for him to finish up before turning on the water to rinse. Tino reached out for his towel, "He's sleep walking again? But he hasn't done that in a while."

Berwald finished rinsing his mouth, spitting out the water before saying, "I know but there he was, in Emil's room. I think he scared him."

Hoping out of the shower, Tino wrapped the towel around his waist, "Well that's no good." He bent over to pick up his dirty clothes when he felt Berwald's hand graze his shoulder bone, "Teddy?"

"Nh, ya have another bruise here."

"Hm?" Tino glanced over his shoulder to look at it through the mirror, "That's odd. It doesn't even hurt."

"Promise me ya'll go see a doctor for that, w'fe."

"I promise, bear." Tino quickly changed and scurried to the kitchen to make everyone a quick breakfast. He handed them each their lunch boxes and rushed them out the door so that they wouldn't miss their bus. Peter trotted after his uncles and brother but Tino quickly scooped him back up, "Not you, baby. _You_ get ta stay with daddy and help him write!"

"Aw," pouted Peter. He waved his tiny hand at his family, "Bye-Bye!"

His uncles turned around and waved back while Patrik shouted, "We love you!"

"We love you too," called Tino. He scanned over all of them to make sure they had everything they needed, frowning when he didn't see Lukas with his Lord of The Rings lunch pale, "Luke, did ya get your lunch?" Lukas waved it over his head and gave him a thumb up making Tino chuckle. He and Peter waited until the bus disappeared before heading inside.

While Berwald had insisted that he didn't have to work, Tino refused to be a stay at home wife, not that there was anything wrong with that. It was simply that he felt that he could do more. He enjoyed literature and felt that he had enough imagination to and skill to write. And so he did. Back in Sweden, Tino had published an array of children's books and he was currently working on one about a man and his older brother who were ridiculed for being odd.

Dressed in his favorite snuggly tan sweater, Tino pulled out his typewriter and placed a clean sheet of paper in while Peter went upstairs to play in his room. He'd gotten to the part of his story where his protagonist was making a deal with a beast to trade places with his brother when he checked his clock. It was about time for Peter's snack so he decided that this was a good place as any to stop for the day. His children would be arriving home from school at two which gave him a few hours to clean the house before having to make lunch.

Tino smiled to himself as he peeled and sliced an apple. He felt blessed to have such a wonderful family. True Mathias, Lukas, and Emil were his brother's but Lukas and Emil had been relatively young when they came to him and Berwald. Sometimes they would accidentally call them their dads before blushing and muttering an apology but neither man minded. If that's what they needed them to be then they would be. Mathias was strange about it at first but even now he sometimes subconsciously called Berwald dad or, much to Berwald's halfhearted annoyance, his old man.

Shaking his head fondly, Tino took a small saucer plate and filled it with sweet caramal before taking that and a bottle of water up to Peter's room. He paused outside when he heard the boy talk, "Yes, I do. I miss Hana a lot. She was my best friend…but you're my friend, right?" Peter was silent for a moment before giggling, "Sure, let's play!"

Tino walked inside and smiled at his son, "Who are ya talking to?"

"My friend Luddy." Peter eyed the apples in his dad's hands and bounced in his chair, "Can I share those with him?"

"Sure, baby."

Peter took one and dipped it into the caramel, "Would you like to meet him?"

"Yeah! How?" Tino motioned to the chair in front of Peter, "Is he sitting here or may I?"

"You can sit there. Ludwig just got out of it when you came in." He glanced around Tino's frame, "Don't be scared, Luddy. Daddy is real nice." Looking back at his dad, Peter pushed the music box he found towards him, "You have to use this if you want to see him."

"Okie-dokie~"

The boy came around and pointed to the key, "Twist that and when the music stops you'll see him in the mirror."

The concept was silly but Tino decided to humor his son. Twisting the key, he watched with a small smile as the clown poked his head up and down from the box while the mirror spun almost solemnly behind it to the haunting tune. It was almost enough for to give the man goose bumps. Or…was it something else that was doing that? He felt light breathing down his neck and he tilted the box but nothing showed in the reflection to be behind him.

The jingle was beginning to slow down and Tino couldn't shake the feeling that something else was in the room with him. He looked closer just as the box played its last notes when he suddenly felt tiny hands press at his back.

"BOO!"

Jumping up, Tino cried, "Holy Martin Luther!" At Peter's giggles, Tino couldn't help but laugh with him. He pulled him into his lap and tickled the boy's soft belly, "You scared me!"

"Heehee, sorry, mommy."

Tino sighed and smoothed back Peter's hair, "I guess Luddy didn't want to see me today."

Peter shrugged, "Oh well. Hey! Can we play hide and clap?"

"Oh, honey, I've still got to clean—"

"Please! Please, daddy, no one ever lets me play."

It was hard to say no to Peter, or any of the boys really, on the best of days. Usually Tino left it up to Berwald to say the dreaded word but his husband wasn't here. And he supposed it wouldn't hurt to play a quick game. Giving in with a defeated grin, Tino nodded, "Ok, ok."

"Yay," cheered Peter. He climbed out of his dad's lap and went into his drawer to get a scarf. Tino helped him secure it around his eyes before standing up and spinning. Peter clapped his hands excitedly, "Ok, you have to count to ten and you get three claps. Ready? One…two…three…"

Tino spun slowly as he kept counting, "Four…five…six…" He heard Peter's pitter patter and the sound of a door slam shut. Oh, boy. "Seven…eight…nine...ten! Ready or not, here I come!" Stumbling out of Peter and Patrik's room, Tino felt around the hallway, "First clap?"

He waited until he heard a faint clap to his right and he followed the sound. Feeling his way through the corridor, he accidentally bumped into the table. He winced at the sound of one of the frames falling over, "Oops, heh, second clap!" Another clap echoed in Emil's room so went towards it.

Smirking, he asked for the final clap. The wardrobe's doors opened slowly, the hinges squeaking in protest, and a loud clap echoed. Tino grinned in triumph and walked towards it with his hands reaching out, "I'm know you're in there, sweetheart. I can hear you breathing~"

When Peter didn't respond, Tino's smile faltered. He felt his finger's brush against cold ones until they were finally pressed flat against the wardrobes back. Smile gone, Tino ripped off the scarf and stared at the wardrobe he most certainly did _not_ open, "The hell?"

"You cheated, mommy, you lose," chirped Peter from behind him. The boy entered the room crossed his arms behind his back. He smiled at his dad as he bounced on the balls of his feet, "You weren't even close, mama. I was hiding in Uncle Lukas' and Mathias' room."

Tino heard a whispery giggle and turned back to the wardrobe unsure whether he had imagined the whole thing. No. He didn't open the wardrobe, of that he was sure. He quickly checked through the clothes before testing the doors. The wardrobe had been there when they moved in and who knew how old it was…maybe the hinges were loose?

The phenomena stayed on his mind throughout the rest of the day. The kids had come back home from school around 2:45 and were eagerly relaying their day as Tino fixed them their lunch. Lukas had met a boy who loved the Lord of The Rings almost as much as he did as well as norse lore. Emil had met a young Asian and a nice girl but she had an over protective brother who immediately took a dislike to him. Shane, the young boy he met, had said not to take it to heart because Vash was like that to everybody who got too close to his sister. Mathias was the most excited however. He'd made friends with a tall Dane and his cute sister who were in the gardening club.

Apparently they had bonded over a discussion of environmentally friendly way of getting rid of bugs. Mathias had even brought home a permission slip to join said club so that he could help with the bug issue. Berwald arrived home around six with a new set of tools and a small frown. He'd apparently had to go on his first delivery run for a couple that lived a bit too far away to his liking.

"Where is it, Bear," asked Tino over their supper.

"Florida," mumbled Berwald after swallowing his potatoes, "It's a week turn around but at least they're paying me double for the trouble."

"Hm." After a bit of family bonding over Tino's new story, the kids were put to bed and the two adults quickly joined them in slumber.

Lukas was strewn on his bed in what he liked to call awkwardly comfortable position. His pajama pants had rolled up on one leg while the other nearly covered his bare foot. He subconsciously shifted about so that the moon light wouldn't hit his eye, forcing air out of his nostrils when he suddenly caught a whiff of something rancid. Frowning in his sleep, he nuzzled his face into his pillow and groaned, "Mathias, stop it."

"Stop what," mumbled Mathias sleepily.

"Stop farting. It's gross. Also, quite touching my feet."

The lanky blonde snorted in his sleep and rolled over, pulling his covers closer to him, "I ain't touching ya, Luke. Go to sleep."

Lukas pulled his leg back up and rolled over as well. Sleep was taking over him again when he felt a clammy hand around his ankle giving him a harsh tug. He gasped, "Jeez!" Narrowing his eyes, a string of curses died on his lips when he heard a loud snore from his brother, who was still sleeping contently in his bed next to him.

Unease settled in the pit of his stomach. It was almost as if someone else was in the room. He looked around in hopes to find Emil or perhaps even one of his nephews but it was evident that it was only them two. That is, until he heard a raspy breath. His bed sheets crumpled under his fists and despite his better judgement, he glanced down onto the floor.

He saw a bit of fabric, like the tip of a skirt, drag against the floor and under his bed. He blinked rabidly and rubbed his eyes, thinking that perhaps sleep was making him see things. But, really, he could rub and rub. That didn't change the fact that seeing that had made his hair stand on end. Gulping, he tightened his fists in his blankets and bit his lip. Should he see what that was?

Lukas held his breath and dug his toes into his bed as he leaned his body to the side with his eyes closed. The tips of his blonde hair brushed against the floor, he could feel blood rushing to his head as he hung upside down like this. At the count of three, he mustered all the courage he had to open his eyes. Nothing. There was nothing under his bed. Relief was about to wash over him but he saw the door to his and Mathias' room slowly fully open.

Dark blue eyes wide, Lukas slowly pulled himself up and looked at the door. All his limbs froze almost painfully at the sight, his mouth parted in a silent scream. Staring back at him was a decaying woman grinning with rotting black teeth. The stench was in full power and he could partially see the paint peel from the door where her clammy hand was gripping it. Her head twitched as she pointed to him and then his brother.

"Mm-M-Mathias," whimpered Lukas almost inaudibly. His attempt to speak seemed to amuse whatever it was he was seeing because she cackled cruelly and took a step forward. He gripped at his shirt, tears pooling in his eyes, "M-Mathias?"

Mathias groaned in his sleep.

"Big brother."

The older boy growled and sat up, "What, Lukas, what?" Mathias' annoyance evaporated at the sight of his younger brother. The boy was sweating and had visibly paled. Feeling rather guilty, Mathias ran a hand through his wild hair, "Luke, are ya alright?"

"Don't you see it?"

"See what?"

"There's something in our room."

"What?"

Lukas didn't avert his eyes no matter how badly he wanted to. He was afraid that if he did, that it would get closer to him, or worse. Leave his room and do something to his family. Sniffing, Lukas pointed, "There, behind the door. It's looking right at us."

Mathias looked in the direction his brother was pointing in and frowned, "There isn't anything there, Lukas." He settled back in his bed and pulled the covers up, "Stop messing around and go to sleep."

"Mathias, please, I'm not messing around," whimpered Lukas miserably.

Frustrated and sleepy, Mathias kicked off his sheets and got out of bed. Lukas whimpered louder this time as his brother checked behind the door, "Look, see? There aint nothin' here. Go to—" His words died on his lips when his brother started to shake violently and fat tears rolled down his cheeks .

"Oh my god," mouthed Lukas. His belly was hurting really bad and his heart was all but jumping out of his chest. He stared at his oblivious brother, "It's standing right behind you, Mathias."

"What are you—"

The door suddenly slammed shut and Lukas let out a blood curling scream. Tino and Berwald heard it and immediately rushed to their room. Tino went to his sobbing brother while Berwald checked the room wildly in hopes to figure out what had scared his brother in law. The only thing he found was Mathias standing by the door but before he could scold him, Lukas started rambling.

"Someone else is in here," wailed Lukas as Tino held him tightly while running a hand through his hair.

"Shh," cooed the older man, "Shh, it was just a dream."

"No, papa, there was someone else in here! It was a monster, I was just sleeping and then I felt something touch my feet!" Lukas was in hysterics and nothing Tino was doing seemed to calm the boy down. He reached out for Berwald who immediately sat next to him on the bed.

Berwald patted his back, "There's nothin' there, Lukas."

"I saw it, dad," sobbed Lukas. He tried to climb into the bigger man's lap and all but latched himself to his body not caring if his little brothers or baby nephews saw him. He was scared damn it and nobody believed him.

Berwald hugged him back, "Lukas, Tino is right. It was just a dream."

"No! No, i-it talked to me. It said that it wants my family d-dead." He looked at Tino sadly and asked, "Can I sleep with you guys t-tonight?"

Tino nodded, "Of course, sweetheart."


	4. House Guest

Amelia laid on her belly as she prepared mud cakes for her piglet who burrowed happily in the mud. Beside her, Arthur was petting Watson the chicken, offering an occasional tip on how to properly mold the patty. Robert snorted, "That's probably the only cake ya can make properly."

"Like your food is any better," hissed Arthur.

"I like daddy's food," chirped Amelia. She showed her mud cake to her uncle, "I especially like his cheeseburgers."

Before Arthur could lecture on the importance of eating a balanced diet, he saw Alfred scamper out of the house. He let Watson loose and walked over to him, "Where are you going?"

Alfred froze with his hand on the car's door handle, "Uh…"

"Did we get a call for a new case?"

"No, we're actually out of milk. I was just going to go a-and get…some…," he trailed off with a nervous laugh when Arthur crossed his arms and gave him a disbelieving look.

"When are you going to learn, love?"

"Wh-what?"

"In fifteen years, have you ever been able to lie to me?"

Sighing, Alfred leaned against the car, "Father Romulus called me. He said that there was a case for us to look into and I said that I'd go and take a look myself. Hey, _myself_. Artie!" He followed after his husband who was already walking around to the passenger side of their car. His hand shot out and closed the door before Arthur could get in.

Arthur huffed, "Well come on. The faster we get there the faster we can come back to our daughter." When Alfred didn't budge, he placed a comforting hand on his arm, "Look, I know you still worry about me—"

"Damn straight I do."

"—but you don't have to."

"I don't know, Arthur. Maybe it's time you take a break, you know? Write that book you've been wanting to."

Green eyes bore into blue before Arthur shook his head, "Do you remember what you said to me on our wedding night?"

The question took Alfred by surprise, a smug grin quickly replaced his pout and he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, "Can we do it again?"

Arthur blushed. He wasn't sure whether to smack his husband or to laugh and decided that perhaps both were in order, "I meant after that, you git." Shaking his head, he bit back his giggles, "You told me that God brought us together for a reason and I'm pretty sure that it's not to write a book." He gently pushed his arm away and slid into the car, leaving Alfred sighing deeply in defeat.

The case was that of a couple who was hearing strange groaning in their house. It had taken a while but Arthur and Alfred had managed to find out the cause in the attic. The brit smiled at Monika and her girlfriend, "I'd like for you ladies to listen to something for me."

Felicia worried the tip of her red pony tail, "B-but—" She yelped and clung onto Monika's arm in fear, "Ve! Moni, it's going to get me!"

The blond woman patted her arm soothingly, "I'm sure everything is going to be ok, leibling."

"Quite right, mum," said Arthur. He called around the corner, "Do it again, Al."

From his position under the pipes, Alfred shifted his weight over the loose floor boards, "That's just me right now, but if you take into consideration the water coming out from the pipe and combine it with the wind coming in from the broken window, these boards are going to expand and rub against each other."

"You heard it all throughout the house because of the pipes leading to the radiator, Ms. Bielschmidt." Arthur gave Felicia's chin a gentle tug, "Don't fret, Ms. Vargas, it's nothing a little tinkering won't fix."

"S-so this place isn't haunted," asked the Italian.

"No, dear, it rarely is. Usually these things almost always have a rational explanation to it."

"Ve~ That's happy!" She hugged Monika closer to her and nuzzled her face against her arm, "Isn't that right, bella?"

"J-ja," stuttered Monika in embarrassment. Clearing her throat and willing her blush away, she offered her own smile to the two men, "Would you two care to join us for dinner? Feli made her famous three cheese and wurst ravioli and I've made a delicious apple cake."

Alfred's stomach grumbled at the mention of food and checked his watch, "Sure! It's been forever since I've had Italian. Say, could we have some to go, too?"

Arthur smacked his arm and looked at the two women in embarrassment, "Of course, we'd love to but we don't need any to go."

"But Artie, it's cake!"

"Wh-why don't we go and eat?" Monika ushered her girlfriend down the stairs, "You two can decide if you want to take some home afterwards. It's the least we can do to thank you for putting our minds to ease."

* * *

**One Week Later**

Soft classical music kept Tino company in the silent house as he folded their laundry. On the night table, he had sandalwood oil in a warmer next to his prescription of iron polysaccharides. His bruises hadn't gone away. If anything, he'd say that perhaps he was getting more but that was the least of his concern. Berwald was due home any moment now and he wanted to get it out of the way so that he could properly welcome his husband. No doubt he would be sore and tired so Tino figured that he could give him a nice massage followed, perhaps, with a snack of his favorite fruit salad or maybe something else, if his hubby wasn't too tired.

Things had calmed down after Lukas' freak out. Of course, Berwald had made Mathias and Emil switch rooms for the time being, something the eldest was more than happy to whereas Emil was not. Berwald won, of course, in the end. He'd also pulled out Lukas' old stuffed bear dressed as Gandalf that he had made him when he first red the novel and told him that it would keep away his nightmares. Tino had thought that perhaps Lukas would scoff at the doll but to his surprise, the boy had simply given a stern nod and clutched the bear to his chest. Mathias was just happy to finally get some sleep in without having interruptions.

Speaking of which…Tino glanced up from the laundry and frowned. He thought he could make out the sound of a faint clap but wasn't sure so he turned off his radio. Tilting his head, he strained his ear and sure enough he heard it again. Clap, clap. Tino checked the time on his alarm clock, 1:23, and sighed, "Boys, its way past your bed time."

He put the folded clothes in their designated drawers before tightening up his robe to check on his kids. Patrik and Peter shared the room closest to his and Berwald's and the door was removed so that they could get to them quickly in the event that one or the other needed something. Tino frowned again; both were fast asleep.

Clap, clap.

"My brothers," mumbled Tino. He walked down the corridor towards Emil and Lukas' room. There wasn't light coming from their room but that didn't stop him from putting on his dad face, "Boys, it's late. You should be—asleep…" Tino's frown deepened but he stepped inside to make sure that they weren't pretending. Sure enough they were fast asleep. How odd…

He tucked their blankets snugly around his little brothers and kissed their foreheads before quickly peeking into Mathias' room. The teen was cocooned in his blankets releasing soft snores every now and again. Tino was about to step in to kiss him goodnight when suddenly the frames hanging next to the stair case fell from their hooks, shattering on the hardwood steps followed by running steps and a boyish giggle.

Tino ran out of the room and looked over the rail. His heart was in his ears as he carefully made his way downstairs. He switched on the lights and carefully stepped over the broken glass. Brow twitching in anger, he picked up one of the bigger pieces of glass and held it close to him. Berwald wasn't home but that didn't mean that it was defenseless. People often saw them together and always assumed that he was the meek wife in the relationship, the mama bear. And while he didn't usually mind, Tino drew the line when people assumed that he would just let them walk all over him.

Gripping the shard of glass, Tino took off his robe and checked every room, "If someone's in here, I'm warning you, you're breaking into the wrong mama bear's house." He picked up the iron poker for extra measure and checked the doors. The grandfather clock chimed and he gritted his teeth to keep from crying out. Giggles continued to taunt him until he found where they were coming from. Both the door to the linen closet and the one leading to the cellar were wide open.

Tino licked his lips and stepped inside, "Whoever's down there, I'm locking you in no—wah!" The light bulb shattered above him before he felt small hands shove him forward. His body shot painful pulses as he rolled down the stairs, the wooden steps digging into his limbs until he hit the bottom of the stair case.

Groaning, he shook it off and blindly reached out for the light switch. The lonely light bulb flickered on, casting a dim glow around him. A shiver ran down his spine like none he'd ever felt before, seeping through his pores and chilling blood. He opened his mouth to speak but the words died on the tip of his tongue with a childish voice called to him, "Do you want to play with me?"

A toy ball was tossed over the broken piano and it rolled slowly towards him until it stopped just before his feet. The boy giggled again making the light bulb shatter. As if breaking away from a trance, Tino bolted up the stairs towards and out the hole. The door slammed shut in his face, hitting him on the nose and leaving him in total darkness. He ignored the warm liquid dripping over his lips and reached for the box of matches Berwald had left on one of the shelves to light one. Wooden steps creaked as footsteps ascended them.

The Nordic desperately wanted to call them out but his voice seemed to have abandoned him along with his calm demeanor. He hissed when the flame finished consuming the tiny wooden stick and attempted to get a taste of his skin instead. He quickly lit another. It illuminated very little but it was better than nothing…right? Tino poked his head cautiously through the hole when the footsteps stopped. He strained his ears in hopes to hear something, anything. The hairs at the back of his head stood on end and his entire back felt incredibly cold and clammy like something had draped itself over him.

"Wanna play hide and clap," asked the voice before clapping in his ear.

That did it. Tino dropped the matches and stared to bang his fist on the linen closet's door frantically, "Help me! Boys! Mathias! Lukas, anyone! Open the door!"

Meanwhile, upstairs, Mathias shifted in his bed. The sound of something pounding at a door stirred him from his sleep. Reaching blindly to his left, he turned on the small bedside lamp and sat up with a yawn, "Who's there?" He rubbed his eyes and squinted, " Patrik? Buddy, is that you?"

The little red head dressed in an over sized shirt was walking into the wardrobe over and over, banging his forehead against the old wooden door. Mathias called out for his older brother, "Tino, Patrik's in my room!" When he didn't get a response, the lanky teenager sighed and got out of his bed, "Hey, buddy, let's get you to bed, ok?" Placing his hand in between his nephew's forehead and the wardrobe, Mathias led him to his bed, "I'll let you sleep with me tonight but only because I'm too lazy to get ya back to your bed." Patrik allowed himself to be tucked in and immediately clung onto Mathias' pillow. Smiling, Mathias ruffled his hair and went around the bed to settle in under the covers himself.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The doors steadily rumbled as if Patrik were still walking against them. Mathias stared at the wardrobe for a moment before getting back out of bed. He slowly walked towards it, "…the heck?" It stopped after the fifth thump but Mathias kept creeping towards it. He checked the hinges first before tracing the flowers carved on it, letting his fingers slide down to the door knobs before ripping the doors open.

Patrik woke up to the sound of his uncle rummaging through Emil's clothes and slowly sat up. He watched him pat the wardrobe's walls and sides in hopes to find what was causing the thumping sound. Yawning, the little boy glanced up and froze. He whimpered and felt something wet trickle down his leg, "U-uncle Mathias?"

Mathias bumped his head inside the wardrobe, "Oof!" Rubbing his head, the teen turned around and offered a grin, "What is it, kiddo?" His smile fell at the sight of his distraught nephew, "Patrik, what's wrong?" Patrik pointed above him and Mathias stepped back to get a closer—"Oh my god!"

Tino dressed in his nightwear was grinning toothily down from the wardrobe. His blonde hair now oily and tangled with filth, his face dirty and hallow but his eyes. Oh, his eyes, milky yet not. Flicks of black soiled his violet iris. Mathias and Patrik screamed as the older man jumped from the wardrobe landed on the lanky teen.

The screams woke up Lukas, Emil and Peter and were even heard by Berwald who was just getting through the door. Alarmed he started up the stairs but stopped to go to open the linen room door. He didn't question why his husband fell out of it nor did he question his bloody nose. Instead he helped him up and together they all but flew up the stairs towards their screaming children.

They found Patrik clinging onto Lukas while Emil was carrying a sobbing Peter on Mathias' soiled bed while the oldest child was writhing on the floor crying out for help. The group on the bed immediately ran to Tino and clung to his limbs while Berwald went to help Mathias up. He got hit by his brother in law's legs but the patriarch quickly pulled him up.

"What th' hell's goin' on here?!" Berwald glanced at all of them as they all, including Tino, were, sobbing and talking all over one another, each trying to tell him what horror they experienced that night.


	5. Reaching Out For Help

"Fear is defined as a feeling of agitation and anxiety caused by the presence or impending danger," said Alfred. He and his husband stood before a full auditorium in Massachusetts's Western University in Wakefield, "Now whether it's a ghost or a spirit or an entity, they all feed on it."

Arthur stood closer to him than he was accustomed to and with good reason. They were currently showing the real of the case that had provoked Arthur's self-imposed isolation. Alfred squeezed his shoulder and stepped forward to point at a past client, "Take Maurice here. He's a French-Canadian farmer with nothing more than a third grade education. Yet after he was possessed that night he spoke some of the best Latin I've ever heard. Sometimes even backwards."

"He had been molested by his father," continued Alfred solemnly, "who also tortured him repeatedly. A dark spirit made its home in this man."

The students and sit ins alike shifted in their seats as they watched the film real silently. In the film Arthur was tending to Maurice, mopping away his perspiration with a white rag while a priest recited a passage from the bible. The brit pointed to Maurice's eyes, "If you look closely, you can see here that he had stared tearing blood." Maurice convulsed in Alfred's arms and started to foam at the mouth as the priest splashed holy water on him. "And just like that, you can see an upside down cross take form right around his belly here."

"Ok, bro, you can switch it off now," said Alfred to Mathew just as the real was coming to an end. Their audience burst into murmurs and excited chatter as soon as the light was flicked back on. Alfred glanced over to Arthur feeling suddenly overwhelmed by all the hands raised. His husband gave him a reassuring smile and the demonologist picked a random person, "Uh, yes?"

A girl stood up, "Have you ever performed an exorcism yourself?"

"No, I'm not authorized but I've assisted in them numerous times." Pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, Alfred explained how an exorcism was dangerous not only for the victim but for everyone in the room. He was about to call on another student but the girl interrupted him.

"So what happened to Maurice?"

"Well, he tried to kill his wife but instead he shot her in the arm and then turned the gun on himself." He took note of how Arthur started to fiddle with his wedding band, a sure sign that he was getting uncomfortable with the discussion. Alfred mentally sighed and tried to speed the answer along, "Maurice had a very troubled life with little to live for and not even an exorcist could bring him back."

Arthur licked his lips and cut in by tugging on the projector screen until it rolled back into it's pouch, "That brings us to the three stages of demonic activity: infestation, oppression and possession. Now infestation, that's the whispering, footsteps, the feeling of another presence which ultimately grows into oppression. It's in this stage where the victim, usually someone that's the most psychologically vulnerable is targeted specifically by an external force."

"Yeah, it breaks the victim down and crushes their will. And once the victim is in a weakened state, it goes on to the final stage, possession."

Alfred and Arthur continued their lecture on demonic activity for the rest of the hour, describing the various kinds of demons they've personally encountered and how to go about identifying possession. Tino watched nervously in the second to last row and waited until everyone shuffled out of the auditorium before shyly approaching Matthew. He tugged on his sweatshirt, "Um, excuse me?"

Matthew looked up from his equipment and smiled, "Hello. How can I help you, eh?"

"You're brother's with Mr. Jones?"

"I am. His older brother by four minutes technically."

"Oh, well, I—uh, I was wondering—no—hoping that you could please introduce me to him and Mr. Arthur. Something terrible is happening to my house."

The taller man studied Tino for a moment, taking in the purple circles under his eyes and his disheveled appearance. The man's eyes were red and puffy as if he'd been crying and he could see unkempt growth along his jaw. Sighing, he motioned for him to follow, "I'm not usually allowed to do this but I think you're not kidding about something terrible happening. Come on."

Tino scurried to keep up with Matthew's long strides until they made it to Alfred's car. He called out softly to his brother and brother in law, "Hey, guys?"

"What's up," said Alfred as he finished putting their things in the trunk.

"There's somebody here that would like to speak with you two."

"Oh, hello."

Tino thanked Matthew and turned to the couple in front of him. He wrung his hands nervously, "Hi, my name's Tino and…and something horrible is happening in my house. C-could you please come and take a look?"

"Uh, sure but it would have to wait. It's kind of late and—"

Biting back his tears, Tino shook his head furiously, "No, please. Please, you don't understand."

"Of course we do, dude." Alfred closed the trunk and leaned against his car, "Usually there's a rational explanation to these things."

"Mr. Alfred," said the Nordic sternly, "I have five children. Two sons and three brothers but I've raised them with my husband so they might as well as be my sons as well, and they are _terrified_." He shook his head and took a deep breath, "I'm so afraid that th-this thing wants to hurt us."

At the mention of children, Arthur's hand reached out to hold Alfred's. He couldn't imagine how much fear, Tino must be in but he could imagine how much he'd be in if something dark was in their house with Amelia. Tino tugged on his other hand, "Please, I know you two have a child of your own and—wouldn't you do anything you could to protect her? Please…please."

Arthur squeezed his hand back, "Of course, we will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is as far as I have it on FF.net. I'm currently working on the next chapter though so it shouldn't take long before I update.


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